“It’s one of the things I stopped in London to find out.” “Then you----” “I am a German spy.” “I don’t believe you,” she cried proudly. There was a note of joy in her voice, a momentary note which seemed to trail off into one of terror. “Cyril!” she whispered. “Rizzio! He wrote me to come here.” “I knew it.” “But he said he----” she hesitated. “Why did he want me to come? There must have been some other reasons besides wanting me to see--he’s here, Cyril--somewhere----” Hammersley started and turned, his hand in his pocket, and Doris followed his look. Three men had risen from among the rocks toward the Tower. “Don’t move, Hammersley,” said Rizzio’s voice. “You’re in danger, Doris.” But the girl was clinging to Cyril’s arm. “No, no,” she was crying. Several shots rang out as Cyril threw her aside, dashing forward. One of the men seemed to stumble among the rocks and fall heavily. The other came in toward Cyril, his arm raised, but another shot from behind the rocks made him pause, twist half around, his hand to his shoulder as Cyril caught him a blow which sent him reeling to the edge of the cliff, over which he hung for a moment, peering downwards in horror, and then disappeared from view. “Well done, Stryker,” she heard Cyril cry. “The other--this way. Don’t let him get off.” And Stryker disappeared after Rizzio. CHAPTER X THE YELLOW DOVE In a daze Doris saw Cyril bend over the prostrate figure and then come toward her. “Dead?” she whispered in horror. But he didn’t seem to hear her. He caught her by the arm and forcibly led her inland. “Dead!” she whispered again. “It might have been you.” “Or you,” she heard him say sharply. “Me?” “Yes. But it’s my fault. I should have guessed.” “John Rizzio would kill _me_. Oh, it’s unbelievable!” “You know too much.” He gave a short laugh. “Far too much for your own good--or mine.” He caught her suddenly by both arms and made her look straight into his eyes. “Doris, you’ve seen nothing, you’ve heard nothing tonight. Do you understand?” His grasp on her arms hurt her but she bore it without a murmur. “Yes,” she said. “You swear it?” “Yes,” faintly, “I do.” “I’ve got to go away from Ben-a-Chielt tonight. I can’t tell you why. You’ve got to go straight to Kilmorack House now. You rode over. Take the short cut by Horsham Hill. It’s not so well known. I would go with you but I haven’t a moment to spare. Don’t trust anyone--not even the maids at the house. Go back to London tomorrow with Jack Sandys and don’t let him leave you until you’re safe at Ashwater Park. Where’s your horse?” She told him and followed blindly. “Where are you going, Cyril?” she pleaded. “It doesn’t matter.” He found the horse and untied the bridle. “Tell me, Cyril. I’ve earned the right to know.” “Something has happened,” he said quietly, “which has put all my plans in danger----” “And you?” “Yes. The thing I’ve been trying to do may fail. It hangs or falls by this issue.” “But what--what?”